


the fires of life

by ForeignLander



Category: Castle
Genre: F/M, Oral Sex, breath play
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-18
Updated: 2014-09-18
Packaged: 2018-02-17 20:27:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,551
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2322146
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ForeignLander/pseuds/ForeignLander
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kate wants to try something new.  Set sometime in season 5.</p>
            </blockquote>





	the fires of life

She’s close.  The air is thick with sweat and sex and their room is a cacophony of grunts and gasps and- _oh._ He’s filling her so deliciously and just _giving_ it to her.

_“Harder. More. Please,”_ she’d begged and he’s not holding anything back.  The headboard thuds against the wall again and again as his hips collide with hers and she braces herself against the dark wood, arms stretched above her and back arching off the silken sheets.  She’s going to come any second and she wants more.

“Choke me.”

It’s out of her mouth before she even realizes she’s spoken.  When his hips stutter to a halt, the length of his cock annoyingly half in and half out of her, she doesn’t know if her whine of frustration is directed at him or herself.

“Kate?”  

The gravel in his voice has her involuntarily rolling and clenching around what’s left of him inside her.  Her eyes fly open, unfocused on the white expanse of the ceiling until her brain slowly kicks into gear and guides them to his face.  She would appreciate the disarray of his hair, the slick expanse of his chest, the strain of his biceps as he hovers over her if not for the fact that he is still obnoxiously still.

“Castle, _please,_ ” she begs, but doesn’t wait for his answer.  Instead, unhooking her ankles from the small of his back, Kate plants her feet on the bed, and uses the newly found leverage to grind up and into him, the full length of his erection sliding home once more.

This time when he says her name, it’s part grunt, part plea, part command.  Try as he may to fight it, she can feel the way his hips twitch in the cradle of her thighs.  He wants this too, she has no doubt, but he wuold never try anything like this without her express permission, something she’s usually grateful for but now finds incredibly annoying.

“Rick, I want this,” she hisses, hips continuously rolling as she slides her left hand across the bed until it meets the bend of his wrist.  Taking his arm in a tight grip - well, as tight as she can manage in her current state - she gives several sharp tugs until the bed dips on her right with the transfer of his weight.  

The anticipation ignites sparks in her abdomen until she realizes it’s not her neck he’s reaching for.  The warmth of his palm slides down the slick expanse of her side to rest heavily on her hip and Kate’s indignant outburst turns to ashes on her tongue as he slides _perfectly_ against her.  The head of his cock dragging along her front wall as he settles onto his knees sets her eyelids fluttering.

She had been there, right on the edge, and then he stopped and now she’s falling.  

Not in the good way.

Not in the way she wants.

“Fuck me.”  His nostrils flare at her words and now that she’s able to think coherently - _unfortunately_ \- she goes in for the verbal attack.  He always has been one for a good story, after all.

“I want you to fuck me.  Hard.  Like my body is yours.”  Grasping his right hand in both of hers, Kate drags them up the length of her torso, detouring to brush pointedly over the peak of one breast, before settling firmly just above the ridge of her collarbone.  She never takes her eyes off of his, preferring to watch the way his gaze tracks their combined movements.

“And then, Rick,” she husks.  The air is thick with more then sex and sweat now.  Reveling in the tension, she waits to continue until his eyes find their way back to her own. 

“I want you to choke me.  Don’t stop.  Fuck me through it.  Fuck me til I come back to you.”

If he’s searching her gaze for hesitation, he won’t find any.  After a few agonizing seconds, he must find whatever it is he’s looking for because his face settles into the mask he wears when he _owns_ her.  And fuck, does she love it when he owns her.  She doesn’t have time to give life to another thought because next thing she knows, his hand snaps tightly beneath her jaw and he’s fucking her.  _Hard._

She feels the flutter of her lashes as her eyes roll back and although he’s letting loose inside her, he’s holding back where she wants it most.

“More,” she wheezes out, forcing her eyes open for a brief second so he knows she’s serious.

Castle growls out a nonsensical response and leans into her, bearing more weight through his hand, his thumb pressing against the pulse in the side of her neck as his hips snap sharply against her own.

Kate’s mouth falls open on a silent scream and her legs drop outwards towards the bed, no longer within her control.  She’s climbing again, back towards the precipice between pleasure and oblivion.  Black spots form at the edges of her vision, fire ignites from the place where their bodies are so intimately joined, her body seizes, back arching spectacularly and then-

There’s nothing.

* * *

She comes back to herself on a gasping breath, hands clawing for the nearest lifeline, grabbing tightly to her boyfriend’s biceps as he rolls roughly over her.  The whole length of his body slides against hers with his movements and Kate clenches around him, partially from of the aftershocks of her orgasm and partially from of the sparks flying to her clit with every drag of her nipples against his chest.

Either his arms won’t support him (a fact she very sincerely doubts) or he’s fighting for control because he doesn’t pull away to check, just grunts hotly against her ear.

“Okay?”

“More than.”  She would be embarrassed about the deep rasp of her post-orgasmic voice, but she’d learned not to be embarrassed long ago.  Instead, she wraps her legs around his waist and holds tightly to him as he regains control.

Somehow, the motion must snap something within him because as soon as she twines her ankles at his back, he pushes up to sit on his haunches, grips tightly behind both of her knees, and spreads her wide, pushing both legs up towards her chest.  

She’s flexible, but this position pushes her as far as she can go.  She cries out, more surprise than anything else and he leans over her, pushing all of the weight behind his hands into her legs.

No words are spoken between them, but she’s not sure she would hear them if there were.  All of her senses are focused on the sight of him above her, her own harsh breathing in her ears, and the perfect, perfect thrusting between her legs.

She had just enough time to come down before that she’s right on the edge again now.  The hand not braced against the headboard flies to her breasts, alternating between pinching and rolling her nipples.  

Castle’s rhythm falters, hips snapping sharply and unevenly against her buttocks and legs.  A low howl rolls through his chest as he comes inside her, the force of his own release sending her falling after him.

* * *

“Thank you.”

The fingers making lazy paths through his hair fall to the side of his neck as he pulls away and she selfishly misses the feeling, can’t be bothered to lift her arms any further off the mattress to chase after him, though.

“Are you serious?” he laughs, and her lips pucker in confusion.  Castle smiles then, a full-blown, shit-eating grin, and falls back into the cradle of her body, presses a quick and dirty kiss to the seam of her mouth.  

“I should be thanking you,” he murmurs against her lips and she can’t help but smile, trapping his lower lip between her teeth.

“So you liked it?” she asks, pushing her head back into the dip of the mattress to meet his gaze.

He leans back in, hums his affirmation into the curve of her shoulder as he kisses his way down the length of her torso.  He latches onto her left nipple, pulling a gasp from her and she can practically feel him smirking around her.  He bites down lightly and laughs darkly as she whines, knowing exactly how sensitive she is, blackout orgasms notwithstanding.  

“Want me to show you how much?” he husks into the pucker of her scar as he drags his lips across her chest to flick his tongue against her neglected nipple.

The flex of her quads on either side of his ribcage is all the warning he gets before he’s on his back, her knees pressed into his biceps and her wetness smearing just below his sternum.

He watches with wide eyes, takes in the wild mane of her hair, the swaying of her breasts as she shuffles forward, hands gripping the top of the headboard as she hovers above his face.  One last glimpse of her smile is all he gets before she settles over his mouth.  He moans at the taste of her - still such a _fucking_ turn-on - and as his hands fly to her, one landing with a resounding smack to her ass, he thinks he might hear her say, _Yeah, I think I do._

**Author's Note:**

> "It provides the oxygen for the metabolic processes; literally it supports the fires of life."  
> -Alexander Lowen, The Voice of the Body
> 
> So...that sort of came out of nowhere. Hope you enjoyed it. Comments are always welcome. :)


End file.
